Every Man Has His Price
by Ginny Ha-ha
Summary: Peter Pettigrew is used to taking last place in everything he does. Nothing goes right for him, ever. When the oppertunity arises, Peter knows exactly how he can get revenge...


POEM BY ME

Every Man Has His Price

By Ginny :)

This is a story about Peter Pettigrew. Please don't flame me for this. I know Peter isn't very popular, but he deserves to have his story written... right? If you don't agree with me, tough. That's the way things go... 

Um... I appologise for the title reference/ quote from 'The Goon Show', which don't exactly fit the story, but oh well. :) It could be worse. Trust me. 

Peter Pettigrew and the other Marauders, Lily, and Voldemort belong to J K Rowling. The Goons belong to themselves, and the show belongs to BBC Radio. The Monty Python people own themselves. I think I own anyone much else... 

Please read & review! 

Ginny :) 

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_"... '£10?'_

_- 'No!'_

_- '£20?'_

_- 'Never!' _

_- 'A quarter of a pound of jelly babies?'_

_- 'WOOOHOOO!'_

_- 'Every man has his price...'..."_ The audience roared with laughter. 

The plump young man sitting at the bar sighed, and switched the radio off, bored. Nothing seemed to cheer him up just now. 

"Penny for your thoughts?" The barman raised an eyebrow at him. 

"Eh?" 

"Penny for your thoughts?" the barman repeated. 

"Oh..." 

The barman frowned vaguely. This young man was obviously depressed. He took it as his personal business to cheer the poor ol' bloke up. 

"The missus thrown you out? Never mind, she'll be right as rain in a day or two; 'Always look on the bright side of life', as the Monty Python boys sing." 

"Don't have a missus." The man stared down, and began to draw a picture in some of the drink he'd spilled on the counter, "No one'd have me." He smudeged a tear into his plup cheek with his hand. 

"Ah, girlfriend dumped you then?" 

"No." 

"Then cheer up, mate. Worse things happen at sea, you know." 

"Really." The young man looked disinterested. He rubbed one of his watery blue eyes self-consciously. 

"Look... buck up, er... what's yer name?" 

"Peter. Peter Pettigrew. Wormtail to my friends... that is, if I had any friends..." 

"Well then, Peter Pettigrew Wormtail To Your Friends," he gave a slight wheeze at the poor joke, "cheer up and tell me what's wrong, eh? Sometimes it helps to share your troubles, right? Incidentally, my name's John Wilkins." 

"I don't think," said Peter, sighing again, "That telling you my troubles would help; I think," he added, "It'd only complicate things." 

"Oh, I dunno 'bout that," John gave Peter a wan smile, "You never know 'til you try, mate, you never know 'til you try." 

"You see," Peter warmed a little to his theme despite himself. The beer must have gone to his head, he decided afterwards, "You're a Muggle, aren't you?" 

John gave him a sideways look, which Peter thought was rather clever, since his was sitting directly in front of him. 

"'Oo says that I am?" 

"You mean, you're a wizard?" 

"I didn't say that," John seemed to think for a moment, "I just said, that I'm not a Muggle, if you don't want me to be." 

"So..." Peter tried to get his mind round the thought, but the alcohol got in the way, "If I think you're a wizard, you are one? But if I think you're a Muggle, you're one of them too? In that case, I honestly don't know what you are." 

John shook his head it him, "You've got a lot to learn, Peter, a lot to learn." 

Peter failed to respond. John, bored, drifted away. Peter sat and stared at the counter. He was depressed. Everything in his life had gone so wrong for him. He'd give anything to be someone else. Anything! 

He'd always taken last place in everything, ever since he'd started school. He'd found friends, yes, James Potter, Sirius Black and Remus Lupin, but somehow everything always seemed to go right for them. James was brilliant at Quidditch, liked by all, top in every class, and very handsome in a charismatic kind of way. It wasn't hard to hate someone who was perfect. And James had Lily. Lily, who was everything a girl could be; pretty, clever, charming, intelligent... and they both had a son. Harry. No doubt he would grow up perfect too... and Lily, James and Harry would all be a happy, perfect, family. 

Not that Peter wanted a son. Babies just cried and smelt a lot and turned into children who turned into teenagers. Peter was never sure why he had been friends with James. It was just the way things were. James' best friend was, of course, Sirius. 

Peter envied Sirius. Sirius made up for what he lacked in looks, wit, brains, patience and sporting talent, by having an unmissable personality. Everyone knew Sirius. Everyone always had. If there was trouble, no doubt Sirius was behind it, usually with James, Remus and Peter being dragged along with him. People noticed him, as they had never noticed Peter. Sirius was never kind to him, laughing at Peter's fatness, paleness, and general hopelessness. A friend, who jeered like Sirius did, was no friend worthwhile. 

Peter supposed that Remus had been... well, all right. He'd had a sense of fair play. He'd been civil, and kind but. But civilness doesn't make a friendship. No one had ever wanted to be Peter's friend. He'd always been left out, an outsider looking in on the games and laughter that his companions shared so gleefully. 

Peter had meant to do so much at Hogwarts. Learn magic and really do something with his life, and now... it just seemed to be drifting away, pulling him along with it... 

Peter gulped down some more beer. 

"Excuse me." A man interrupted. He was tall and gaunt. He had a frosty gray stare that seemed to cut right through you and freeze your blood. He could not have been much older then Peter. His hair was silver blonde. Peter decided that the man couldn't have been in the bar long, since he had not noticed him earlier. 

"'Lo?" he stared up at the newcomer, dolefully. 

"I overheard your conversation with the barman," said the stranger. Peter tried to figure out his angle. He was not apologising, and nor was he telling Peter that he ought to be quieter. He was just saying something that couldn't be business, as though it _was..._

"Yes...?" 

"You mentioned Muggles. Are you a wizard?" 

Peter considered this. Theoretically, he was, "Yeh... most of the time. So they tell me." he admitted. 

The man gave a tight- lipped smile, "Ah, good. I was hoping you were," he paused, and thought for a moment, "Of course, you are... a little tipsy... still, I don't suppose there's any other way you could know about things like Muggles..." 

"No." 

"Hmm. Well then, I think I might have a use for you, er...?" 

"Peter." 

"I might have a use for you, Peter," the man looked at him soberly, "when you've recovered from the drink." 

"What use?" he stared up at him groggily, making vague sense of the man's words. 

"Tell me, Peter, do you want power?" His mouth was now at Peter's ear level, and the words were hissed, so that no eavesdroppers could possibly listen in. 

"Yuh..." 

"Do you want people you can rely on?" 

"Uh huh..." 

"Do you want to help wizards to achieve greatness?" 

"Yeaaaah..." 

"Then you will be able to help us. Come along," straightening up, the man looked around the room distastefully, "I don't want to have to stay here longer then I have to." 

Peter lumbered unsteadily to his feet. The man smiled. A question came to Peter's mind. 

"Who are yuuu..? How... can you help me...?" 

"My name is Lucius Malfoy," said the man, "and," he lowered his voice again, "I work for the Dark Lord." 

"Vol'emor'?" 

"Indeed." Another thin lipped smile, "You, Peter, can help him a great deal." 

Peter muttered something inaudible, as Malfoy directed him through streets. Malfoy disdained to touch him with the hem of his robes, and despite the nearness of their ages, seemed ever so much older. 

If Peter had been more sober, he would have wondered what he had let himself in for. 

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I don't plan to continue this [at least, not for some time yeat, as Im still writing 'Lily and James; Mirror'd Illusions'], but if enough people request one, I'll continue the story at some point. :) 

Incidently, I'm looking for, shall we say, a willing victim or two, who would be happy to help me a little with my fics. Ideally, I need someone who is good at constructive criticism, who is willing to be subjected to my plot/ charactor/ etc Ideas, before I turn them into a propper story, or in the case of stories I've started, before I put them online. Basically, someone who'll give me advice on my story ideas. It should be fairly painless for the victim involved, and you needn't beta anything [I already have another victime, hermione potter, for that, who I am thankul for betaing this fic, amoungst most of my others]. 

If you'd like to help me, either leave a review with your Email address on it [ideally with an actual review for the story as well!], or Email me at rachel@meghora.freeserve.co.uk ... please don't be offended if I don't ask you! 

Thanks a lot! 

Please read & review! 

Ginny :) 


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